


The Suckiest Succubus

by Stilienski



Series: Sterek ficlets [16]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Succubus Stiles Stilinski, everyone should appreciate Stiles more, matchmaker, wingman derek hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-21 18:49:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8256583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stilienski/pseuds/Stilienski
Summary: Being a succubus is all fun and games till you realize that you're literally going to starve to death because you're definitely not smooth enough to seduce anyone. Or the one where Stiles is starving till he finally gets a taste of Derek.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xlogophile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xlogophile/gifts).



Of course Stiles had heard the silly stories of people being able to tell when someone had had sex for the first time. Like losing your virginity would actually change you somehow. He’d never believed that, because really it was just downright ridiculous. So he didn’t exactly expect to have the entire pack looking so weirdly at him when he arrived at Derek’s loft for the pack meeting. Surely it couldn’t have anything to do with the hook-up he’d managed to get the night before, that would be crazy.

Or well, it could just be that they still smelled that other guy on him. That very hot and charming guy. That guy he’d been eyeing from across the bar the entire night, but never found the courage to actually walk up to him. That hot guy who had no reason being interested in silly spastic Stiles, but for some reason had offered to buy him a drink anyway. That guy who Stiles never did catch the name of, but oh sweet Lord, he’d never forget the night that guy had given him.

Yeah, he really would never forget that night. Not in a million years. Because it turns out that in a world filled with werewolves and banshees and kanimas, apparently losing your virginity to a particular someone can totally change you. Forever.

“I’m sorry, what?” Stiles finally asked Deaton to repeat it, because really he wasn’t making any sense. Of course Stiles knew something had been going on, that’s why he went to Deaton, but not that. No sir, no, nope, that could definitely not be going on.

Sure, it all fit, Stiles had been feeling very hungry, but he was still a growing teenage boy, that was a totally valid and normal excuse. And yes, he’d been able to smell and feel stuff, but he’d just assumed the werewolves had been rubbing off on him. No, you dirty perv! Not rubbing off on him like that! If one of them had bothered to rub off ~~on~~ with Stiles, none of this would have ever happened.

But oh no, apparently grumpy werewolves had not been in the mood to have a bit of a mutual beneficial arrangement regarding the sexy times with Stiles. Which is why Stiles was now able to smell weird stuff he didn’t know the meaning of and he was keyed up and on edge all the time and really just no fun to be around.

Still, Stiles was still a very much for chalking all of this up to some teenage hormone stuff instead of whatever it was that Deaton was saying.

“I think the man you had sexual intercourse with was a succubus and he may have turned you.”

“Turned me? Of course he did! It was a wild night, Deaton! He turned me around a couple of times, we had lots of fun in lots of different positions so yes, we turned each other this way and that!” Maybe if he yelled louder and strung more words together into sentences this would all just turn out to not be true.

Apparently Deaton decided it was best to just ignore Stiles completely and move on with his explanation. “It’s comparable to lycanthropy because they pass it on to humans like a virus. But it’s very rare, you’re actually the first case of it that I’ve seen in my time.”

“A virus? What? I’m turning into some sort of sex demon because of a magical STD?”

“Yes.”

Stiles’ eyes went wide with disbelief. The veterinarian couldn’t actually be serious. “No! Not yes! Did you even hear me? That sentence included the words “sex demon” and “magical STD”, you’re supposed to shake your head at my ridiculous childish jokes, you’re not supposed to agree with me! Seriously, let’s go over this together slowly. When someone asks you “is it possible that I’m turning into a sex demon caused by a magical STD that I must have gathered on my first ever sexcapades with a very handsome young man” then you react with,” Stiles lowered his voice and put on an awful British accent, “No, sir, that’s preposterous, have you been consuming overly large quantities of the alcohol again?”

Deaton just gave him a judgmental look before turning around to rummage through a drawer in his cupboard.

“Hey! We’re not done here! Is this some sort of prank? Because really, man, this is not funny.”

“No, it really isn’t funny. This is quite serious, Stiles. You’ll have to learn control.” Well, they were all fucked if this depended on Stiles self-control. And judging by the pensive look on Deaton’s face, the vet knew it too.

All the color seemed to drain from Stiles’ face as he swallowed away the lump in his throat. “Control what? What exactly is going to happen to me?”

“Your entire being is going to be so attractive and seductive that humans are going to have no choice but to sleep with you.”

Stiles burst out in an uncontrollable laughing fit that went on for an embarrassing amount of time.

*****

When Stiles had left the animal clinic he’d sat in his jeep for a while to gather his thoughts.

As with all things, there were some downsides to this but there were also some positive things. So the positives: after this one, no more STD’s for yours truly, no diseases at all actually, Stiles Stilinski was now very much disease proof (which was just the mean irony of the universe at work, but whatever, it was positive, he should be seeing the positive here). He would also have some heightened senses, mostly his nose would be more in tune with pheromones. Another good thing was that apparently people would like his face now. And Stiles would work on not finding that sentence awfully offensive to his pre-succubus face.

Apart from that, yes, werewolves would still be superior to him in every freaking way. Because Stiles’ life sucked. (Also, his mind was now stuck on wanting to change every suck into succubus. Which was not going to help with awkward giggles during blowjobs.)

And about those blowjobs. He needed them. Like, lots of them. And lots of other things too. Lots of kisses and make-out sessions and sex. Because apparently he’d now have to feed off of sexual desire and attraction and well all the good things in life really.

Luckily for him, there was now some sort of power thing he had with pheromone stuff and some magic stuff that no one really understood but it basically made everyone want him. Which was good for the feeding bit, not so good was the fact that he couldn’t actually use it because hello non-con trigger warning.

No, no, Stiles would rather starve than take advantage of someone like that. And anyway, Deaton said he was lucky he was changed now. He still had 6 months of high school left. High school where everyone was filled with sexual tension all the time. That should at least take the edge off of it for now, until he found some way to use his natural Stilinski charm to have a good time with someone instead of using the rape-y powers. It was going to be fine.

*****

Now, that last bit is where Stiles had been wrong. It was so not going to be fine. Surprisingly enough, the part where Stiles had to learn to control his powers had been the easy part. Apparently “if you don’t get your shit together you’ll end up raping some poor guy or gal” was quite enough incentive to reign in the weird new _look_ that had come free of charge together with the supernatural STD.

Which by the way, was a horrible thing. Of course he’d had to tell his dad, they had a strict rule about telling each other all the need-to-know supernatural things. Apparently his supernatural STD was one of those necessary things. And where being bitten by a rogue alpha werewolf actually sounds quite badass, catching a supernatural STD just sounds stupid and embarrassing because “Stiles, don’t you dare tell me all those awkward sex-talk moments were for nothing! How can you not know to put on a condom?”

Yeah, Stiles hereby challenges everyone to convince their parents of some sort of super STD that isn’t at all bothered by latex while trying to avoid the very awful scientific explanation of: “well, it’s only possible when a virgin comes into contact with enough bodily fluids of a succubus” Seriously, go ahead and try.

His dad absolutely did not need to know about Stiles exchanging such copious amounts of spit or the weird little thing where the hot guy had taken to _massaging_ some other bodily fluids into Stiles’ very, very, very willing skin. Well, at least he supposes his skin was willing… yeah, he couldn’t exactly get his head wrapped around whether or not the whole thing had been completely of his own volition. Which was honestly a hole he’d rather not fall into right now, he already had enough to worry about as it was.

Now, if telling his dad was awkward, then telling the pack was well… probably one of the worst experiences of his entire life. All thanks to Jackson, really. “Oh my god, please tell me someone else just heard Stilinski say he has to survive on sex from now on, because that is simultaneously the funniest and the saddest thing to ever happen in this pack.”

Yeah, super funny. And he was about to prove Jackson wrong, really he was. He had meant to prove Jackson wrong like a month ago now, right after he first broke the news to the pack. But it hadn’t happened yet. Because Jackson was right. There was no way Stiles could do this. Because Stiles wasn’t charming or attractive or sexy, never had been, never would be. And that was fine, seriously, he’d always known that he should look for someone who was able to see the good things inside of him, because there wasn’t a lot of good on the outside. That was fine. Till it kind of turned into an important thing. Like life or death important.

Yep. Stiles was starving. He had even had to take a job in the Jungle. There was no place that had more sexual tension and desire and _cravings_ than that bar. But lately that had all just tasted like a bit of an appetizer to Stiles, it wasn’t enough. It was… second hand. None of it directed at him, none of it _meant for him_.

Which was a) offensive, and b) LIFE-THREATENING. Stiles’ life was literally threatened by his lack of charm and sex-appeal. He was going to starve if he didn’t learn how to flirt anytime soon. He was going to die if he didn’t manage to just get someone to like him for once.

Even Jackson had dropped the jokes this past week, that’s how serious this was getting.

So… Stiles was quietly preparing himself to die the loneliest death.

 

Sadly, life didn’t have anything quite so merciful in mind for Stiles Stilinski. Oh no, life was pretty adamant to make sure life did not end on a good note for Stiles, no sir. Life had decided to throw a pack of werewolves at him first. A pack of werewolves with _dating advice_.

*****

Scott had been the first, of course he was. He’d also been completely useless. Why was Stiles even still surprised at that? “Just ask him out, Stiles, what’s the problem? You like Danny, he’s friendly.”

“I know he’s friendly, Scott, he’s a friend. And he’s also told me plenty of times that I’m not attractive to gay guys, so. Just drop it, okay, that’s not going to work.” This was 2 weeks after Deaton had said that Stiles depended on his flirtation techniques for survival from now on.

“Stiles, relationships aren’t just about being attracted to each other. You don’t just like Danny for his pretty smile, do you?” Oh god, no, Stiles so did not need this talk.

“No, his killer bod doesn’t hurt either.”

“Stiles… He knows how smart you are, he knows you can be funny… Come on, one date, it’ll be fun.” He should have known that Scott would take this whole sex demon thing and turn it into something sappy.

“Scott, Danny and I are just friends.”

“Just a date, come on. And when it works out we can start going on double dat-“

“Scott, I don’t need a date! I need someone who wants to sleep with me! I don’t need dinner and a movie, dinner isn’t going to make this better! I need someone to sex me right now!”

“Well… I’m sure Danny wouldn’t mind…” Scott left the end of the sentence open, and Stiles’ mouth dropped open as well. His best friend did not just…

“Did you seriously just say that Danny wouldn’t mind giving me some pity fuck? Because, really, Scott, fuck you too.”

Of course Stiles had barely lasted 2 hours in angry silence before he’d apologized to his best friend for snapping at him. But fuck it, this was getting to him, okay. His freaking _life_ was on the line here. After Scott it had been Erica and Lydia. Together. Which was almost as terrifying as his imminent death by lack of sex.

“What you really need, is a makeover.” Yep, there it was, there was something more horrifying than being touch-starved to death. But this, Stiles could actually avoid. He had never left a table in the school cafeteria faster than this. Sadly, Erica was a very quick werewolf.

Stiles whimpered when she grabbed him by his ear. “Aw aw aw! Oh my god! Let go of me! Unless your planned makeover includes ear removal! No, even if it does, let go! Because if you think removing my ear is going to do anything to help me, I am seriously questioning your fashion advice. That only made van Gogh interesting after his death! Which, if I can just remind you again, is a thing we’re trying to avoid here. Hands off the merchandise!”

“Merchandise needs good packaging to sell, Stiles. Basic marketing. We’re going shopping.” Stiles just nodded, he’d learned long ago that when Lydia and shopping were involved there was no place for no.

So Stiles went with it like a good little puppy, yet sadly it didn’t stop with an afternoon of being shoved into way too skinny jeans and way too tight t-shirts (and a pair of leather pants he’d really rather forget as soon as possible, thank you very much). Oh no, no, all of that clearly wasn’t enough. No, Lydia and Erica also had the evening planned. Speed dating.

It was the worst. The absolute worst.

First of all, Stiles was not good at sticking to only need-to-know information. Second of all, it was surprising how many wrong things Stiles could say to them in such a limited amount of time. Well, at the end of the night he’d at least learned that “I’m part of an online gaming community that battles mythical creatures” is not a good opening line. He’d always remember that trying to find a connection with someone who’d been caught for shoplifting should not be “oh then you may know my dad, he’s the sheriff, he probably gave you a very stern talking to on top of your fine and all that. Are you still into shoplifting?”. And he would never forget that “oh you’re gorgeous, you’re almost as pretty as the girls who talked me into doing this crazy shit and they’re the prettiest women I’ve ever met” would earn you a slap 3/3 times.

Yeah, so this particular failure was probably not Erica or Lydia’s fault. If Stiles had been any other person, their attempt would’ve probably worked. But the rest of the pack, Stiles couldn’t believe how they had ever gotten laid.

Boyd’s advice was basically: wait and get lucky, you’ll find the right one soon enough.

Uhu, great life advice, not so great when he didn’t have a lot of life left.

Isaac’s advice was to go to the jungle, do anything but talk and just dance his way into someone’s bed. Which was… pretty good, because so far Stiles’ mouth had given him nothing but trouble. Then again, it hadn’t taken into account Stiles’ particular brand of dancemoves.

Oh, he’d danced alright. Stiles had had the time of his life. And with his stupid spastic moves he’d even managed to clear a 2-meter radius just for himself on the dancefloor. So, his mouth got him into trouble, his dancing chased away everyone… he didn’t really have a lot left. Except for his friends.

 

“Okay, guys, it’s been a month. I’m cranky, I’m more distracted than usual, and I’m not sure how much longer I can keep controlling the rape-y powers. You’ve all been great, but your advice has sucked so far. Which is why I have decided to call in a couple favors you owe me.”

Pretty much everyone responded with some variation of: “Stiles, if anything, you owe me favors.”

“True, true. Except for you, Sourwolf. You owe me, big time. I have saved your sorry sour butt more times than I can count. You’re going to save my ass in return.” There was a collective shocked intake of breath, Scott was the first to voice his concerns.

“Stiles, I think there are also some consent issues tied into that deal. You can’t just blackmail someo-“

“Oh my god, no! Dude, if this past month has taught me anything, it’s that I really shouldn’t have standards as high as Derek freaking Hale. If anything I should have no standards. Lower than none. I should have minus 50 standards, Scott. I’m just saying that I think Derek,” he turned back to the alpha in question, trying his best puppy-eyed look, “should be my wingman.”

“Huh… well that’s actually not the worst idea ever.” Lydia admitted.

“No, no, I’m pretty sure it is.” Derek quickly intervened. “I can’t do that.”

“Dude, you owe me.” But Stiles knew as well as anyone that that was not going to work on Derek. “Please, man, just come with me to the Jungle, have a couple drinks with me. You’re like, hotter than the sun, you’ll draw attention to yourself and thus me, because some of your amazing sunlight has to rub off on me right?”

“Fine.”

*****

Everything was wrong. It was all wrong. First of all, Derek was smiling. Second of all, Derek was _dancing_. Derek seemed to be having the freaking time of his life. Meanwhile Stiles, oh lord, Stiles was _furious_. Because this was not the fucking plan! This was all wrong!

Derek was supposed to be getting the attention, yes, but Derek was supposed to be at his side while he got all the attention so Stiles could get a little bit of the attention as well. Instead Derek was dancing with everything that happened to have a nose and a pair of legs and Stiles was left sulking at the bar.

God, he couldn’t even watch this anymore. Sure, he’d admitted to himself a long time ago that he was very much attracted to Derek Hale, and he’d accepted that was stupid almost immediately after the admittance. Really, Stiles knew Derek Hale was way out of his league and would never look at Stiles the same way. But that’s because Stiles had also factored in Derek’s social awkwardness, his inability to have any sort of normal human interaction and his _damage_.

Wasn’t Derek Hale supposed to be the prototype for damaged mystery boy? Where had all of that gone? huh? Out of the window as soon as they’d entered the club. And the club didn’t even have any windows!

Stiles angrily sucked on the straw from his non-alcoholic cocktail one more time before slamming the empty glass on the bar behind him. Oh he had had enough of this. He glared at Derek and all the grinding people surrounding the werewolf as he marched over to them. Stiles forwent all semblance of subtlety as he pushed people aside. Because to hell if Stiles was just going to stand by and let Hale get away with this. Over his soon-to-be dead body.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” He screamed in Derek’s ear. Sure, he knew the werewolf would have understood him just fine if he’d whispered it, but hey, Derek deserved a lot more than some pained eardrums. “You’re supposed to get me a one-night stand, not get yourself into the middle of a motherfucking gangbang!”

“Jealous?” Derek prompted and Stiles squinted angrily at him as Derek smirked. He actually had the goddamn nerve to smirk.

“You know what, fine. If you’re ruining my chances, I’m ruining yours.” He didn’t give himself any time to think before he put his hands on Derek’s hips and pulled him closer.

And oh… well that feeling was new, warm and… satisfying. He let himself indulge in it a little longer before he realized what it meant. Someone was actually attracted to _him_ right now. Oh this was so much better than the second-hand sexual tension. It was a fuller feeling, complete somehow. Oh yes, Derek seemingly being mere seconds away from _pouncing_ on him, was definitely helping with the hunge-

Stiles pulled away so quickly even Derek’s reflexes took a while to catch up.

“Fuck, Derek, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” He had control goddamnit! He’d had control for a whole month, and this was the moment where his mind decided to let go for a bit? Fuck…

“Stiles, it’s fi-“

“NO! No it’s not, I’m supposed to control this. Just… I’ll just go back to the bar.”

“To hell you will.” Derek pulled Stiles back against his chest. “I can’t fucking believe it took me 14 guys to make you jealous enough to finally get your ass over here.”

“What?” Because really… _what now?_

“You moron. I thought you were supposed to be able to be more tuned in to people who were attracted to you or whatever.” Derek ground out, his lips now ghosting over Stiles’ ear.

“More tuned in to people who-… you? You want… me? Yeah! Yeah right. Go play this prank on someone who’s not about to die in a ditch because he literally can’t flirt to save his life. Literally, Derek! This is not funny!”

“Does it feel funny?” Stiles couldn’t help but laugh at the awkward phrasing.

“Sure, it feels funny, Derek. That’s what happens when boys grow up.”

“Does it feel like I’m joking?” Derek nearly growled the last part as he nipped at Stiles’ ear. And oh dear lord, this was just… Stiles felt like he was getting high on this.

“Why didn’t you fucking say anything? I’ve been trying to get some of this for a whole month now!”

“Oh right, so you were offended when Scott said Danny wouldn’t mind giving you a pity fuck but you’d have been just fine with me saying that we should just get to it already?” Okay…

“Fair point. So, is this the part where we go back to your place for coffee?”

“No, this is the part where we make out on the dance floor like a couple of horny teenagers. The part where we make all those blind idiots see what they could have had and make them want a piece of you. And when you’ve got enough we’re going back to my place to cuddle and sleep and celebrate that we both got our heads out of our asses in time to save you from starvation. How does that sound?” Well that sounded like the most words Stiles had heard Derek say in the entire month after Deaton’s diagnosis.

“That sounds like Scott totally owes me those fifty bucks. I've always known you were a cuddler.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading I hope you liked it!  
> Please leave some kudos/comments if you did <3


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